𝖁𝐈𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐎 !
IV. EXPOSURE

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AN EERINESS ENGULFED THOSE surrounded at the small table. Kera couldn't deny it was strange to be hospitable to mere strangers ── a Mandalorian and a child. Mos Pelgo was isolated and off-grid. It meant that there were never any visitors or interactions with outsiders.

    There was no talk, no questions, just the scraps of knifes and forks scraping against the plates. The Mandalorian didn't seem to be open to much conversation, his attention seemed to be solely focused on the child who gurgled happily with his hearty meal.

     Kera had been expecting more information to be revealed or a possibility even polite conversation. When she had collected the Mandalorian from her room after he had finished his meal he had merely mumbled a thank you ── one of which Kera almost didn't hear and followed her down the passage to the small table where lunch resumed to take place.

     But everything that was to occur moments later were about to change Kera's path forever.

       "Mandalorian, what has brought you to these parts?" Jo had asked, her eyes brimmed with curiosity, her gaze sharp as she dipped her flatbread into the remnants of her stew. The Mandalorian's head had snapped up from wiping the stew smudges on the child's little wrinkly green face to across from him where the teenager looked at him so attentively.

      Kera who was seated at the head of the table suddenly interjected and spoke before the Mandalorian could. "Jo, the Mandalorian was here to look for another Mandalorian but now he's helping the town with the Krayt dragon in order to receive the armour Vanth wears. As long as he ain't causing any trouble, any threat, I don't care what he does."

      Anza merely said nothing, a secret smile dancing upon her lips as she took the bowl with both hands and brought it to her lips. Kera and her theatrics had brought amusement and laughter into the mellow and saddened household ── even if Kera didn't know it.

     "Is that a pet?" Jo asked with a pointed finger, intrigued by the little child of a strange green species.

     "No. . . It's a foundling," The Mandalorian told the teenager but his voice was almost reluctant in revealing it.

       "Jo, stay out of it. It isn't any our business," Kera warned, her voice sharp and stern. She had never snapped at the teenager before ── the breezy coolness of her constant facade slipping but something deep within Kera compelled her to do so. Guilt instantly littered through her, the distraught look in Jo's eyes, dampening as if all the stars in the world had vanished in a single moment. It brought an ache to her heart because she was supposed to be her older sister.

     The Mandalorian couldn't help but notice a peculiar tone underlying her voice, something protective. It was hard to decipher the virago woman before him but perhaps she knew something he didn't think that she knew.

      "I'm sorry," Kera whispered apologetically, her voice a mere mumble to the teenage girl who smiled ever so softly in return.

       Anza knows that she was to step in seeing that she was the one who had responsibility for her granddaughter, "Jo, we must always question if something is worthy of asking out loud."

      "Yes, whatever grammy," Jo retorted with a roll of her eyes.

Kera grew often uncomfortable whenever Jo was in trouble. Jo was often careless and brash in her actions and perhaps it could be excused by her young age and inexperience in witnessing wide galaxy ── for all cruelness and despair yet all its patches of goodness and hope. It was those instances which reminded Kera too much of herself. It reflected selfish, foolish choices Kera made years ago. It brought ghosts and phantoms of her past ── ugly images of tremendous agony of blazing and scorching fires and blood coated hands. A reflection of a corroded and blackened soul. A monster caged in her heart, hissing and wailing to be freed, aching to cause its awaited destruction and revenge.

You want it. Don't you? The monster hissed within her. To make them feel your pain? To make them pay for what they did to her?

Kera was drowning, falling swiftly as if she was a blistering and burning star plummeting across the cosmos. Remember, her heart within the voice in the bottomless pit of nothing echoed, its voice soft, a mere whisper, you know that is not who you are.

The monster roared in defiance ── But you liked it? Killing that Guild leader! Don't deny it! You could do it! You could hunt them all down as if they were mere animals!

Around her objects ── cups, cutlery, bowls and plates ── began to float, rising upwards only to plummet to the floor, to crash against the flat, smooth surface. Kera stood, her chair buckling backwards, her lungs heaving for air, her heart pounding, the brandished ugly white scar at her neck aching as she hurriedly her palms pressed against the table.

       It had been so long since Kera had exposed herself and now she would have to deal with the consequences. Kera had no choice now. She'd have to run. She'd have to leave her sanctuary.

Those around her only just began to formulate what had occurred. The gazes of Jo and Anza were sympathetic, gazes littered of understanding. They knew what Kera had been through, for after all she had told them almost everything, unable to bear the thought such a good-natured family (who had suffered so much and had lost their whole family to the Mining Collective) had to endure living in a household with a murderer.

   "What did you do?" The Mandalorian interrogated the child, his tone hard and disciplined. The child looked at the Mandalorian with confused innocent bright eyes, tilting its little green head as if to emphasise that. Then the child looked down at his little fingers which were interwoven with the flatbread unable to understand his father.

  "I'm sorry," Kera began to repeat over and over to no one in particular, her body trembling. K-3SO hastily moved to her side and gently lowered her back to the now upright chair but she griped the droid's arms for dear life. It was if she believed that she could find sanctuary and comfort and security in its hold.

"Kera, I am here for you. No matter what," The droid promised solemnly, its robotic voice littered with the all too familiar flare of positive enthusiasm. It only calmed her. . . slightly.

And it was then that the Mandalorian gathered what had occurred. It wasn't the child ── it was her and more importantly, Kera Verr had the same mysterious powers as the child.

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"A-ARE YOU GOING TO say anything?" Kera blurted a few moments later. It was almost midday and the suns had grown to a harsh, blistering fury. The heat always had a tendency to make her feel heavy, weighted.

        After Kera's episode, she had decided was time to get a move on with things and head to the Cantina to discuss things with the townsfolk ── even if she did not like it.

   "No, I won't."

        Kera arched an eyebrow, unable able to feign her undefinable surprise. Even despite the company of the child and the revelation that it was a foundling, Kera was expecting the worst. In fact, she was always suspecting the worst.

       Her words were sluggish but appropriate observations. "Can I trust your word, can't I? Because of your child. He's like me."

        There was a dip of the helmet. No hesitation in his words. "Yes."

        Kera smiled a little. "Well, I know so. Mandalorian's are supposed to be honourable warriors."

        "Are you a Jedi?" The words were quick, thunderous. Unknowingly, Kera's fingers moved to trace the white brandished symbol littered with pink ugly, long healed scars at the nape of her neck, marking her forevermore of that tarnished night which left any mark upon her bruised crimson soul.

        "No, I'm just a force-sensitive. Sadly, there aren't many Jedi left. Is that why you're scaling the galaxy to find one? To help your kid?"

   The Mandalorian's questions ── answering them brought fond ghosts and phantoms of the past. It made her think of her mother of Feyn and her mother's special Jedi friend, Obi-Wan Kenobi. Kera had loved the Jedi as if he was her actual father and that in turn, despite the Jedi Code, had loved her too, treating Kera as if she was his very own daughter. Kera had never really known her actual father, just flicker and fragments of the horrid man ── the one who had barred and almost ruined her mother's spirit before he died when she was baby. But they, Feyn and Obi-Wan, her parents were both gone now. Just a fragment of golden memories, carved into her heart, haunting and tormenting her every breath because she still and would always miss them.

   But Kerra Verr had always fought for them. For her parents because she had their starlight legacy burning in her heart and ever since she was eight years old ── Kera had promised herself that she would make them proud.
    
      "Yeah," The Mandalorian informed, drawing her back to the conversation but his tone was still hesitant as if he was wary of her. Kera averted her gaze from the cooing child and the gaze Mandalorian ── unable to deny the sinking feeling that arose in her chest of how he didn't trust her.

   Kera's blood boiled by the very fact she had allowed the Mandalorian to penetrate and allow her to feel such things. Kera was a warrior, she was supposed to be strong, not weak in such foolish ways. Her hand brushed the nape of her neck, feeling the texture of the rough, scarred skin, forcing herself to be reminded of who she was and what had conditioned and moulded her to be Kera Verr.

         "They hunted you," The Mandalorian observed, noting the white scar at the nape of her neck and how it was spangled with sharp lined pink scars. It was almost as if she had tried to rid of it, even knowing that it was permanently etched upon her skin.

   The Mandalorian didn't know what to say. Poor Din Djarin didn't know how to comfort her. Telling her that he was sorry, wouldn't wipe that look of pain and agony from her beautiful face; in fact he knew it wouldn't fix anything. It wouldn't take that scarring on her soul away. The Mandalorian knew that she would think he was pitying her and he silenced himself to say nothing of it. For Din Djarin was scared that he'd hurt her fragile stitched wound, opening them to be an ugly, gushing, bloody mess. He couldn't dare to hurt her like that.

          "Yeah. Yeah, they did," Kera whispered weakly in return but her voice was firm, unwavering. Her past was something she never under any circumstance wished to speak about.

          The child made a sad coo in kindred understanding, feeling the ache of her suffering. Her gaze snapped back to the child and she smiled ever so softly in return.

          "It's about time ya three showed," Cobb Vanth drawled, leaning cooly against the beige coloured doors by the entrance of the Catina.

          "I was hungry," Kera mumbled tiredly, the prior conversation draining her. "And I had work to do."

          The Marshal laughed heartily before he tried to find the right words to describe his friend's appearance, "Explains why ya look so, uh. . . dishevelled. What were ya working on this time?"

         "I had to service my speeder and Kaythree had a loose arm circuit. Again."

         The Marshal smiled wistfully into the distance, "That poor droid, havin' to put up with Kera Verr every second of the day."    

         "That droid has a name, Cobb. K-3SO. And if you really care to know Kaythree has been my friend since I was ten years old," Kera nodded over to the Catina, wanting to divert the conversation at hand without an in-depth explanation, "Anyways, let's just get this over with. . . Even though I know exactly how the townsfolk will react."

         A gloved hand snagged at her wrist, pulling her back from following after the Marshal. "The town respects you, Verr. My guess is, they'll listen to reason."

        Kera smiled ever so softly, unable to camouflage her shock at his words, her gaze meeting the visor of his Beskar helmet, "Thank you, Mandalorian, but you don't know the town and what I've dealt in my time here. Even what they've been through before I came here."

   The murmur of the townsfolk wavered through the air of the Cantina as the trio and the child settled before the circular counter. Over by the corner, Kera spotted Anza and it provided support and assurance. Kera greeted the townsfolk who moved and settled at the tables, ensuring that they had refreshments from the heat.

        "This here is a Mandalorian," The Marshal informed, clear authority wavering in his voice. "You know what that means?"

       "We've heard the stories," The Weequay contributed blandly. It was common pieces of knowledge, stories of Mandalore told around campfires, tales told to children of great warriors, now ceased due to the great purge morphing the warriors into legend and myth. The sight of the Mandalorian before them was rare yet not entirely welcomed ── the gift of trust was hard to earn from the townsfolk of Mos Pelgo and the Mandalorian's shiny armour and warrior status couldn't shift those concrete, unyielding values.

     "Then you know how good they are at killing. Now, this one's got a problem. I got a suit o' salvaged armour and the Mandalorian creed says it's his to take."

        Kera had observed quietly, her eyes pinning to the expressions of the townsfolk and she instantly noticed the change at those words spoken by the Marshal. The newfound murmur of the swaddled townsfolk within the Cantina brought disinterest and Kera knew that in whatever the Marshal was to say had to be cautious and more importantly convincing.

   The child looked up to her from where it had settled beside the Mandalorian and in attempt to be reassuring, Kera mustered the biggest smile she could.

      "But I've got a problem too. A krayt dragon has been peeling animals off our pack animals and sometimes taking our mining haul with it. It's just a matter of time before it grows tired of Banthas and goes after a couple of you townsfolk or even, so help us, the school. And even our Deputy, Kera Verr, won't be able to stop it."

       Kera knew that it was a hard move and it would be hard to determine which way it would peg out. Informing the town that even she couldn't do anything about it would have either put forwards the appeal of the situation or it would diminish and cause an outcry. And the mix signals of the townsfolk was hard to compensate for Kera to plan ahead.

        "As much as I've grown fond of the armour I'm even more fond of this town. The Mandalorian is willing to help us slay the leviathan in exchange for returning the armour to its ancestral owners."

        Weequay looked to the Marshal, "Well, that settles it."

        The look of distraught washing over the face of Cobb Vanth was an explanation in itself. "There's more. . . We can't take the krayt dragon alone. And the Sand People are willing to help."

       Kera snickered when thee townsfolk rose from their seats clambering and bellowing their opinions all at once in outrage. She knew all along that this outrage and disagreement from the townsfolk would happen. And suddenly it was her time to shine.

   "Alright, you lot. Sit down, please."

       It surprised Kera Verr when the majority of the townsfolk had obeyed and from the corner of her eye, Kera could see the proud smile that graced Anza's lips. "I don't want to hear 'oh, they're monsters!' or 'oh, they raid our mines!' Because I'm going to give you the cold, harsh truth and I ain't gonna sugarcoat it. We have no choice. We're living on borrowed time! Working with the Sand People is the only way to save our homes, our village. I'm done talking now, so Mandalorian, Vanth, you can contribute now."

        The Mandalorian stepped forwards a little. "I've seen the size of that thing, it will swallow your entire town when the fancy hits. You're lucky Mos Pelgo isn't a sand field already. I know these people. They are brutal. But so is the Dune sea. They've survived for thousands of years in these sands and they know the krayt dragon better than anyone here. They are raiders, it's true. But they also keep their word."

        Kera tried to feign astonishment. Every single townsfolk was growing to be convinced by what she, the Marshal and the Mandalorian had put forward.

        "We have struck a deal. If we are willing to leave the carcass and its ichor, they will stand by our side in battle and vow to never raise a blaster against this town until one of you breaks the peace."

        And with that no townsfolk said another word of outcry. They were completely and utterly convinced. As the townsfolk all filtered out of the Cantina, Kera turned to the Marshal and the Mandalorian and her little green friend Mandalorian's arms, "Has it dawned on anyone to think that we'd all be great politicians or is it just me?"

A/N: IM SO SORRY MY LOVES 😩😩 i know that my writing is terrible at the moment. but it does get somewhat better lol. i guess just be patient with me for a bit??